


found my one regret (and it was you)

by Reishiin



Series: neverever(heart)land [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - ARC-V, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 14:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reishiin/pseuds/Reishiin
Summary: The early days of the Heartland Resistance.





	found my one regret (and it was you)

  

 

 

_("Is this really the world you desired, Nasch...?")_

 

 

 

 

 

**017**

 

Seventeen days after Academia tears through Heartland City, a man named Nasch turns up at the remains of the Heart Tower with lips set in a thin line and a group of cloaked figures in tow.  

He stands before the ruined display screen where the cameras are still watching, though only Heartland's innermost circle knows, and recites the names of the secret academy's graduating class until his petition for an audience with Mr. Heartland is granted. When he is brought before Mr. Heartland, he requests access to the nascent resistance's supply chain and communications infrastructure. In return, he said, he and his subordinates will fight alongside the resistance against the Fusion threat.

"What makes you think you're in any position to make demands?" Heartland enquires.

In response Nasch turns to one of the cloaked figures behind him, who deposits the contents of their travel backpack onto the ground. A pile of Academia duel disks clatters out. "There is a scientist here who is investigating the Fusion threat's dimensional travel and carding technology, is there not? Perhaps he will find these of use."

Christopher Arclight is called before the council to examine the artifacts, and testifies that they are real.

"Very well," Heartland says, and gives them directions and a set of passcodes to the now-abandoned ruin of Heartland Academy.

Above the fallen Heart Tower the sky is grey like static, thick with the ash from Heartland burning, or the dust that still has not settled from when Academia destroyed houses and toppled towers as they first tore through the city. Seventeen days ago.

 

 

 

**002**

 

In the state of emergency following the Fusion invasion, the waste processing plant beneath the fallen Heart Tower was repurposed into military base, communications hub, and executive headquarters. After the survivors had been rounded up and sheltered in the remains of schools and shophouses, Mr. Heartland had called on the students from the secret academy to take up their duel disks against the new threat.

"None of us are qualified to fight on a scale like that," Gauche had protested.

Mr. Heartland just shook his head. "Then learn quickly."

 

 

 

 

**021**

 

Heartland's interim war council meets once per fortnight.

As Kaito stands before his superiors to give his report, he is conscious of Nasch’s attention on him. In the two weeks of pushback since the resistance was established, Academia's encroach on the inner city has slowed; the evacuation effort to Sparta are ongoing, estimated to complete in another week. Kaito turns to Chris, who reports that the tear in the dimensional fabric seems to have repaired itself, with sign remaining of the anomalies that had preceded the first wave of the invasion.

“We’re doing fine,” Kaito concludes.

“You’re doing _terribly_.” Nasch’s voice is low but loud in the silent room. “The missing person reports. The casualties. The cards. Is that your definition of fine?”

“We’re doing our best.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Kaito feels cold. “Then what is?”

“When Academia no longer exists in Heartland City.”

“That’s a tall order, Nasch.”

"Are you saying you can’t do it?”

"I'm saying we are limited by resources and time and opportunity."

"Trivialities. Any other outcome is unacceptable." Nasch turns to the council and inclines his head, then stalks out of the room.

Heartland steeples his fingers. "Tenjou, do you have an answer to this?"

Two days ago Droite returned to base carrying Gauche and both their duel disks, and dropped him at the infirmary entrance before collapsing herself. Kaito was at Yuuma's side as he cleaned and stitched both their wounds. "Sir— the duelists are exhausted." Kaito says. "They have fought without pause for the better part of two weeks. They have lost family, home, friends. Of course, if it is really needed, we can press on. But—"

To Heartland's side, Dr. Faker nods. He also has passed most of his waking hours in the Arclight lab, but his demeanor betrays no fatigue as he says, "You would not ask a soldier with a broken leg to fight. You will ask this of them?"

"Academia will not wait for us to recover our strength." Heartland turns back to Kaito. "You are closest to them, Tenjou. You know what is best. Decide as you see fit."

Kaito nods. There is nothing more he can do here. He bows to the council, then turns and leaves the room.

In the week since the group calling themselves the Barians joined Heartland's resistance, they have recovered more cards and captured more duel disks than the entire resistance effort had up to this point.

"Who the hell are these people?" Droite had asked.

The Barians are terse in communication; they report their whereabouts, their activity, and the supplies at their disposal, but very little besides. Kaito had searched Heartland's archives for information on the Barians, but none of the names produced results. Data loss during the initial impact is possible, but more likely, they are using aliases.

He thinks Nasch is trying to prove a point.

 

 

 

**032**

 

When Kaito sleeps he dreams of lightning splintering across grey skies, the sound of metal against metal as towers crumple. Blood soaking into brick pavements, fire licking up the sides of the Heart Tower’s glass walls. He wakes, and thinks he will never sleep again.

So he doesn't sleep, and stares at the reports of the day without seeing them as he turns over the events of one month ago in his mind. What if he'd let Haruto stay home from school that day; what if he'd insisted on raising the alarm when Chris first brought up the strange weather patterns; what if he'd gone with Hayate and Ryuuji to investigate the first reports of energy spikes at the city's edge. But no matter which way he turns the situation, Faker never makes it back to Heartland in time, and Haruto never survives.

A knock on the open door, light framing a silhouette in the doorway. “Kaito, you need to rest. You’ve done your best. You’ve done enough.”

Tsukumo Yuuma, the paramedic who works at Kaito's resistance cell, was finishing up EMT training when Academia first descended on Heartland City. He lost his parents and older sister in the first wave, and sought refuge in the nascent resistance's medical department. Now he spends his evenings with a cup of herbal tea, a copy of _Anatomy,_ and the charts from his father’s old practice. He’ll never be any good as a physician, he says, since he can never go to medical school now. But he can keep people alive for a while longer than they otherwise would be.

Kaito drops his hands back onto his desk, turns to look at him. “You should rest too. Yuuma.”

“When I’m done with my rounds," Yuuma says. Somehow it brings to mind Nasch saying, _when Academia no longer exists in Heartland City._

 

 

 

**038**

 

Gauche finds among his casualties someone whose shoulder pad is bare of the Heartland insignia. When the man's helmet is removed Kaito sees that he has long blond hair, braided and pulled into a bun at the back of his head not unlike the way Chris used to. The Barian emblem is stitched to the pocket over his heart.

He's one of Nasch's.

Mizael spends the next three days in the infirmary. Yuuma tells Kaito that he will answer the basic questions that determine his health, but very little else.

At the end of the day Kaito stops by the infirmary to visit, sees that the man's long blond hair has been half shaved from his head in order for Yuuma to dress the scalp wounds. As Kaito approaches him, he turns, and holds Kaito's gaze until Kaito blinks first.

"Tsukumo says that a man named Gauche saved me. Please, give him my thanks."

Kaito nods. They exchange formalities. Mizael doesn't seem interested in small talk, but even though they have nothing in common and no words to fill the space between them, Kaito feels a certain kinship with this man.

So he asks about Nasch instead.

“That man is a good leader," Mizael replies.

Kaito nods. “You trust him?”

“With my life. If he wished it.”

"Since you are in this condition, it looks like he did."

"Only in the same way you do, Tenjou Kaito."

Kaito thinks of Droite and Gauche, and Shun and Yuuto and everyone, and understands. Silence, punctuated by the beep of the monitor. Kaito nods, then stands. "I'll leave you to rest."

That evening, he gets a message from an unknown sender. The network address is on the fringe of the inner city where Heartland Academy is.

_This is Mizael. Apologies for this improper farewell. Thank you for your assistance and hospitality. Nasch sends his regards._

Nasch’s regards. Kaito cares very little for those. He sends back his well-wishes. Then he closes the application and goes to bed.

 

 

 

 

**047**

 

Kaito pretends, to everyone aside from Droite and Gauche, that he isn't keeping score.

His position forces him to consider people— strengths, synergy, efficient resource allocation — but he operates best on data: metrics and indicators from which to draw correlation, infer causation, observe trends and anomalies. At the very lowest level, this is true: the presence of the Barians helps the Resistance. They make their own decisions and keep their motives hidden, but they bolster the resistance efforts at every turn, and they win the fights they pick with ruthlessness and efficacy.

Kaito is impressed, but Yuuma has reservations. Yuuma says, _it's good that they are on our side_.

 

 

 

**053**

 

Kaito wakes to an unfamiliar ceiling with no idea as to how he got there.

"You collapsed on a raid," somebody says. "Do you remember your name?

The guy has short hair and glasses and a white coat, on which he wears the Barian insignia beside the staff of Asclepius on his left sleeve.

(So Kaito is at Nasch's mercy. Great.)

Halfway through answering the medic's questions he says, "Can't you just let me go back to HQ and get treated there?"

"I'm sorry," the man says, seeming genuinely apologetic. "No one is available to escort you now, and in your condition it would be irresponsible to let you go on your own."  He keeps running down the checklist.

When he is finally done and Kaito is about to turn over and try to get some more rest, a different voice says, “Who’s Haruto?”

How long has Nasch been there? “How do you know that name?”

“You said it in your sleep.”

Kaito's stomach clenches. “My brother. He was taken by Academia.”

“Good," Nasch says.

“You _bastard_ —“

Nasch catches Kaito’s fist easily, tightens his grip until Kaito thinks his wrist might snap. He's a lot stronger than he looks. “Every important thing you lose is one less thing that can be used against you.” He lets Kaito’s arm fall back onto the bed. “What are you feeling, Tenjou Kaito? Anger? Grief? Guilt? Fear?”

Kaito doesn’t know. All of it. None of it. “What the fuck does it matter?”

“Hold on to those things,” Nasch says. "It's all you will ever have."

"You're projecting," Kaito observes, more calmly than he feels. "What did _you_ lose, huh?"

It is a low blow, and fierce satisfaction flares when Nasch's face twists. "I'm putting you under. Durbe says you collapsed out of chronic exhaustion, and that is the grossest dereliction of duty a commander can commit. You’re no use in a war room and you’re no use in a fight and you sure as fuck can't be responsible about your subordinates' lives—”

“Pot, meet kettle?” Kaito shoots back.

“I fucking sleep.” Nasch reaches for Kaito's IV.

Durbe catches his arm a fraction of a second too late. “Ryouga—“

Nasch whirls. "I said never to call me that."

That's the last thing Kaito registers before he blacks out again.

 

 

 

When Kaito opens his eyes, the medic— Durbe— is there. "Sorry. Nasch is a bit—"

"It's fine," Kaito says, holds still as Durbe readjusts the monitoring pads. Then, because he is curious, he asks Durbe, “ _Does_ Nasch sleep?”

“Six hours a night, to the minute,” Durbe replies. “He didn’t use to.”

"What happened?"

"Exactly what he said happened," Durbe says.

Kaito can feel the beginning of a headache coming on. Is everyone in Nasch's camp this cagey?

 

 

 

**058**

 

The name 'Ryouga' turns up slightly more information in Heartland's archives. From an old newspaper clipping Kaito discovers Nasch's last name is Kamishiro; he has a sister, and no other living relatives after both his parents passed away in a car crash. Some years later Kamishiro Rio was critically injured in a warehouse fire, and Ryouga had gotten caught up in a scandal during a dueling competition not long after. Henceforth, they both vanished from public record.

Kaito thinks about Haruto's card, stacked alongside others the Resistance has recovered in a cardboard box labeled 'T'. He thinks of Nasch saying _Every important thing you lose is one less thing that can be used against you._ Then he puts it out of his mind.

 

 

 

**065**

 

At the end of another overcast day, another failed attempt to break through Academia's perimeter, Kaito and this Fusion soldier are the only ones left standing.

"Wait."

The opponent slides up the visor of his helmet, then removes the headgear entirely. He is young, barely fourteen, and the hair he shakes out is the same colour as Haruto's. He looks up at Kaito, eyes wide with fear. "Please—"

Behind him, a flash of light, and then Nasch strides past Kaito, picks up the card and tears it in half. The sound goes right through Kaito's chest. "You considered sparing him."

"He's just a child."

"So you'd let him go on killing?"

Kaito says nothing.

"You're blinded by grief, Tenjou Kaito. It makes you weak."

"I know what I am fighting for." Kaito's voice is steady though he does not feel it. “Better than just being out for blood.”

Nasch’s face twists with an unrecognizable expression. It is the most emotion Kaito has ever seen him show. “Do better next time, Tenjou Kaito.” His voice is like ice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**072**

 

Nasch's second in command collapses on the doorstep of HQ, five feet from the entrance to the waste processing plant, and Kaito has never seen Yuuma this distressed.

Even in convalescence Vector insists on writing up the report of his excursion, and he is transferring the logs of his last duel using Yuuma's D-Pad when Kaito walks in.

“If it isn’t the great Tenjou Kaito himself here to see me. What an honour.”

Kaito ignores it. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Vector says.

“That’s all?”

“That’s all you or the superiors reading your report need to know.”

"I'm not—" Kaito can feel a headache coming on. “Are all the Barians like this?”

“Nope, just me.”

“Definitely just you,” Yuuma puts in as he passes by. "Vector, you need to tell me when you are in pain and where it comes from, so I know how to help you.”

“And you, Yuuma, sweetheart, have bedpans to attend to, so go and do them."

(Fondness doesn't suit Vector, Kaito thinks.)

"How'd you find him?" Vector asks Kaito, indicating Yuuma's back with a tilt of his head.

"Our fathers knew each other," Kaito replies. "How'd you find Nasch?"

"Our paths crossed."

“I'm surprised someone like you follows him for this long.”

“It’s convenient. Our goals align for now.”

“Convenience is a strange reason to take an Ancient Gear fist to the chest for someone.“

Vector's lips quirk. "That'd be telling, wouldn't it?"

 

 

**083**

 

Caught in the rain after getting separated from the group during a raid, Kaito takes shelter in the remains of an abandoned house on the outskirts of what used to be the residential district. The roof only had half its shingles and the door has been ripped clean off its hinges, letting in the wind and rain.

Even in a thunderstorm, Heartland City's sky still looks the same.

Kaito tips the dining table on its side; raids the cabinets for kitchen linens and fuel tablets and sets them alight for warmth. Checks his D-Pad— there's no network signal— and settles in the farthest corner to wait for the storm to pass.

Someone stumbles through the doorway and Kaito's instantly on his feet with duel disk at the ready.

"Put that the fuck away, Tenjou Kaito, we're on the same side."

The person throws the hood of his sodden cloak back and shakes out long messy hair, and Kaito sees who it is. "What the hell are _you_ doing out?"

"Supply run," Nasch replies. The thunk of his backpack as he dumps it on the ground ascertains it.  "No one else was free."

"Do you not read the forecasts?"

"I did. Decided to chance it."

Nasch's cloak isn't weatherproof. He pulls the dripping fabric off and drops it in a wet pile on the floor; under it, his faded uniform jacket is soaked through. He looks thoroughly miserable and Kaito grimaces on his behalf. "You better get out of those wet clothes or you'll catch cold."

"Don't nag, Rio," Nasch mutters, and then realizes what he said and glares at Kaito.

Kaito shrugs off his coat. "Think fast." He throws it to Nasch, who catches on reflex. He looks from the cloak to Kaito, who coughs and turns away. If Kaito's assessment is right: Nasch is smart, and he won't put himself at risk for the sake of something like pride.

Behind him the shift of fabric. Kaito scrolls through his D-Pad: no new messages, but he refreshes on reflex anyway.

When the sounds of movement have ceased Kaito returns to his place by the fire. Nasch has put on the coat, distaste evident on his face, and laid his own things next to the embers to dry.

"Any closer, you'll catch fire," Kaito observes. Nasch's face twists; he pulls his knees up under the cloak and scoots closer anyway. "What's everyone so busy with that there's no one to go on a supply run?"

"Vector's doing a thing over in the next city over and we have to pick up the slack."

"He's selling you out to Academia, you know."

"I'll take that risk."

"Why?"

"You also have subordinates," Nasch says. Kaito nods. "Then you know why. The Barians are my responsibility. I don't make promises I can't keep."

Silence save for the sound of rain pouring down outside. Kaito shivers, gooseflesh rising on his exposed forearms; he uselessly tugs down the short sleeves of his undershirt, almost regrets giving Nasch his coat.

Nasch looks at him. "You can move closer, you know." At Kaito's glance, he adds, "The great Tenjou Kaito dying of hypothermia— I don't need that kind of debt on my account."

So Kaito moves, holds his hands over the dying embers to catch the last vestiges of warmth. Nasch is a solid prickly presence at his side, and to pass the time Kaito scrolls through weeks of reports he has already read while Nasch watches the fire burn out.

Precisely five to midnight, Nasch says, "I'm going to sleep."

He curls up at Kaito's side just shy of touching, facing away with his duel disk tucked under his arm. Kaito doesn't move until Nasch's breathing has deepened and evened into the rhythm of sleep.

The next morning Kaito opens his eyes to the still-overcast sky, pale light filtering through the open door and the dirty glass window. His own coat is laid over him like a blanket. Nasch has long gone.

Above all, Kaito is surprised that Nasch got that close without waking him.

 

 

 

 

 

**091**

 

At the first sign of another dimensional anomaly Chris Arclight sounds the alarm, and Kaito sets the word loose in the resistance network. Gathers everyone in HQ and explains the situation; Takes stock of personnel and supplies, calls over public broadcast for any duelist who is capable to travel to the most probable site of Academia's next strike. Yuuto is there already; Shun is on his way, and Gauche and Droite are en route to the sites of second and third most concentrated probability respectively.

"—it's been an honor," Kaito says into his headset with a sense of finality, and closes the connection. He looks up. Above the coordinates Chris sent him, the sky is still grey as the day Academia first arrived; Heartland City has not seen sunlight for almost a hundred days.

The D-Pad beeps again as Kaito slides it back into the case. He checks caller ID: unknown number, but the network address is from Heartland Academy.

"Oi," Nasch says when Kaito picks up. “I heard that. Tenjou Kaito. You're full of shit."

"Mm, what about?"

"Don't you dare fucking die before you get your brother back.”

"Why do _you_ give a damn?"

"Behind you." The call cuts off, and Kaito turns to see Nasch walk up to him, fist his hands in Kaito's collar as his face twists. "Bastard. I don't. The Resistance needs you. More to the point, if someone is going to kill you, it better be me."

 _The same to you,_ Kaito should say, but Nasch’s mouth is slanting along his own, rough and dry, and Kaito cannot breathe.

The truth, examined, is that Kaito also does not want Kamishiro Ryouga to die here. Kaito registers the feeling; imagines a piece of paper, folded so the written words cannot be seen. He slides it into a slim wood case alongside his memories of Faker and Haruto, then places the case back on a high shelf, and closes the cabinet and turns the key.

Nasch's hand brushes Kaito's shoulder as he pulls away. "Don't you dare die," he repeats, breath warm against Kaito's cheek.

"The same to you," Kaito replies.

They turn their faces to Heartland City's sky, that place where the sun will never again rise, and watch the heavens weep metal and light.

 

 

 

 


End file.
